


What Little Girls Wear

by RenaRoo



Series: Sapphic September [23]
Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: F/F, Post-Series, Sapphic September
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 11:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: There’s a question that Utena seems to always get no matter where they go, but Anthy seems to have grown a fondness for the way Utena answers. She wonders what Utena remembers, and what scars still linger from Ohtori. AnthyxUtena. Sapphic September: Dresses.





	What Little Girls Wear

**Author's Note:**

> I was really nervous and really excited writing this entry which is probably what took me so long. I feel the need to thank my friend @ladyloveandjustice in particular for having amazing meta and analytical reviews of Utena that were not only a great pleasure to read, but really helped me to understand and feel comfortable enough with Anthy and Utena’s characters to write this prospective happy future for them. So thanks so much, Nev! You are a boon for lovers of fictional ladies everywhere!

She is wearing a dress that gathers in frills around her knees, even as she sits on the picnic blanket, a book in her hands and an equally large hat floppily set atop her head. The wind is gently flowing through the curls of her hair as her eyes dance across the page quickly and quietly. Reading in her third language takes Anthy some additional time, but she finds this particular book worth the difficulties of translation, especially as Utena lays back, had comfortably cushioned in Anthy’s lap, eyes closed in a light sleep.

When her second hand isn’t needed to turn the page of Miss Plath’s poetry, Anthy instead rests it in the tuffs of Utena’s shortened locks, fingers caressing the soft scalp beneath.

Their day is seemingly tranquil, even as the sounds of others playing in the park ring louder, as children call out and the grasses and bushes grow reaching toward a perfect sky.

The day is so good that Anthy almost misses the bounce of the football against the ground a few feet away.

For a moment, Anthy hesitates. There is a learned instinct to take the oncoming ball unflinchingly. To accept its trajectory as purposeful and malicious. And to lay blaming, scornful eyes on the small group of children behind it afterwards.

But she then takes her hands away from their respective tasks, ready to shield her face instead since her hesitation has taken away the opportunity to stop the ball—

Anthy isn’t sure why she ever doubted what would happen next.

Utena, with seemingly otherworldly reflexes, reaches up and grabs the ball from the air before it can strike Anthy. Her hands smack into the sides of the ball that it almost makes an echo around the park.

The little kids who were running perilously toward them in an attempt to stop their mistake all pause, a group of five boys with a little girl in pigtails trailing behind them, stumbling against her dress all the way.

Together, they seem a little shocked by Utena’s actions.

Somehow Anthy joins them, despite having been around Utena’s athleticism for far longer. She smiles and straightens her hat, reaches for her dropped book.

After a yawn that Utena is  _clearly_ exaggerating, she opens her bright eyes and smirks at Anthy. Her arms are still fully extended as she holds the ball in place. “Be careful. They say a lady reading is dangerous,” Utena jokes, pulling herself up to a sitting position and palming the football.

Her resting smile, a sarcastic note to her forgotten, brittle self, tidies her dress. “ _They_ say many untrue things out of fear,” Anthy replies candidly.

There’s a look to Utena’s face that  _clearly_ says she doesn’t quite get what Anthy’s saying but she also doesn’t dwell on it long. She gets to her feet with a seamless leap and spins the ball on her finger as she nears the kids. There’s something about kids that Utena shows a near otherworldly understanding of despite them usually causing the opposite reaction from Anthy.

“Careful, kids! There’s more than just your football game in the park today,” Utena jokes as she walks up to the boys. She smiles comfortingly to the boy in the front, no doubt the kicker, before she tosses him the ball. He accepts it with a grunt.

“That was awesome how you caught the ball, mister,” another boy compliments Utena.

“Huh?” Utena replies, blinking a few times, as if it is the first time this mistake has been encountered by her. “I played lots of sports in school, so that’s why I caught the ball. But I’m no mister!” She puts her hands on her hips and smirks at them.

“Oh, sorry, young man,” the boys call, already losing interest as they run to get back to their game.

Utena pouts and huffs, crossing her arms.

Anthy’s more than ready to just return to her reading when she notices the younger girl who had been chasing after the boys. She feels drawn to the little girl in her bright pink dress and folds her book over her lap. Then she watches as the little girl stumbles and falls, out of breath and tearing up as the boys run back to their game. None seem to have even noticed their play friend has fallen behind.

The parallel is not lost on Anthy, her eyes dull some as she watches, brows knitted in concern. Old scars across her back and chest, shoulders and thighs, wrists and ankles, feel alive again. The pull of the bindings of an old life. A life that hasn’t been gone for as long as Anthy would like.

But Utena is not bound in the same ways. Not that Anthy sees at the moment, at least, because she is immediately alarmed by the girl’s fall and steps over to her, dropping on one knee to help the girl up worriedly.

“Uh oh, looks like you’ve hurt your knees!” Utena says softly to the girl, brushing off her long dress of dirt and grass while taking note of the red blood beginning to seep through the fabric around the girl’s knees. Without hesitation, Utena looks back to Anthy and their picnic blanket. “Himemiya! Do we have bandaids?”

“Yes,” Anthy answers, looking toward the basket she packed. “And tea.”

“I didn’t ask about tea,” Utena responds, scooping up the tearful little girl and carrying her over to Anthy.

“We still have it, though,” Anthy informs her, digging through the basket. “Do you think she will like Oolong?”

“I think she’s going to like a bandaid,” Utena replies, not reading into the subtly.

Humming to herself, Anthy unpacks another teacup and spoon, then a pack of tea.

“ _Anthy,”_ Utena groans.

Not rushing, Anthy pulls out some bandaids and a first aid kit. She is quick to open up a small towelette of antiseptic, looking to the girl. “Can you pull your dress up so I can clean your knees?” she asks.

The girl is still sniffling even as she pulls up her dress to allow Anthy to do just that. “Thank you, Miss,” she says respectfully, even when the sting of alcohol makes her flinch.

“You know, you really should put on some shorts or even a skirt if you’re wanting to play football,” Utena says offhandedly. “When I went to school, there’s no way they would have let me wear a dress to sports practice, even if I had wanted to wear the dress uniforms.”

Anthy pauses her nursing of the little girl to glance up at Utena, to read her eyes to see if any hint of awareness was there. If the scars of Ohtori were there for more than Anthy alone to bear. Seemingly, however, Utena was free of the full implications once more. Talking ambiguously about school without anything more than a flippant tone.

“Dresses are what little girls wear,” the girl answers.

The statement draws Anthy away from her deep evaluation of Utena and puts her back to putting bandaids on the girl’s scrapes.

“Hm. I guess  _some_ little girls wear dresses,” Utena answers. “But I guess so can little boys.”

The confused little girl finally turns and takes an actual look at Utena, as if she took the appearance of her savior for granted the first time. Her mouth opens then closes. “You’re not a man.”

Utena blinks a few times and then rolls her eyes back. “Everyone’s so surprised.”

“You have short hair! And your clothes aren’t girls clothes,” the girl almost scolds.

Anthy presses her thumbs along the bandaids to secure them in place. But the girl flinches back and lets out a little cry in return.

“Careful, Anthy,” Utena says in concern.

“Would you like some tea?” Anthy asks the girl innocently, ignoring Utena’s comment.

The girl looks between the both of them. “Are you… picnicking together?” she asks.

“Utena is my bride,” Anthy answers, already pulling out the thermos of warm water to poor into the teacups for their tea.

“You saying it that way always makes it sound weird,” Utena laughs. “Can’t you say that we’re engaged to be married?”

Anthy looks up at Utena, eyes glimmering with vulnerable truth as she so rarely shows. “It’s nice to have someone I can say is mine and who can say I’m theirs back. It’s nice to say it if you mean that you have each other.”

Scratching at the line of her jaw as she laughs, Utena shrugs. “I guess so.”

The little girl sits on the picnic blanket with them, quietly processing things. “You’re both girls… and you’re also getting married?” she asks, brows furrowed.

Anthy offers the girl her tea last. “Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know,” the little girl answers honestly. “I’ve never met anyone before like that, just boys and girls. Boys with girls. Girls in dresses.”

“Not wearing dresses got me expelled from school I think,” Utena says, scratching at her chin as she thought back on the subject. “That’s it, isn’t it? Because I wore pants?”

“No, Utena,” Anthy corrects but does not elaborate.

“Ah, well,” Utena answers before looking at the confused little girl with a big smile. “That’s where Himemiya and I met! In school. The first time. Then we ran into each other again after school. And now look at us!”

Utena tells the story as if it’s full of coincidences, not long searching and investigations that took Anthy the better part of a year, traveling the countrysides in search of her prince-that-was-not. But then again, Anthy supposes that that, along with many other things about Ohtori, are not Utena’s to remember.

The girl looks at her tea, then looks to Anthy. “If you like girls… why do you wear dresses?” she asks.

“I like girls  _and_ dresses,” Anthy answers, taking a sip of tea herself. “And tea.”

“Dresses aren’t normal for me, but they’re normal for some people,” Utena elaborates. She then smiles at the girl. “The important part, and the hard part, are finding out what’s normal for you, right? Then doing that.”

“Even if it’s boys wearing dresses?” she asks. “And girls wearing pants?”

Utena shrugs. “Maybe.”

The girl seems disinterested in her tea, and more with her thoughts. “Maybe it’s  _only_ normal for you two girls,” the girl thinks, reluctant to heed Utena’s words.

“Then I am glad to be the only ones normal,” Anthy says smartly as she keeps her eyes closed and sips her tea all the same.

“Everyone deserves to do what they think is normal for them no matter what, don’t they?” Utena says in a much more reasonable fashion.

“I think so,” the little girl says, sipping her tea then getting back to her feet. “I need some pants to play,” the girl says before pulling up her dress above her knees and beginning to run back to the play field. “Thank you, married girls!” she calls back as she runs.

Utena smiles fondly after the girl. Anthy smiles fondly at Utena.

“You are amazing,” Anthy says softly.

Humming, Utena turns back and smiles at Anthy. “Good call on the tea, I think it really calmed her down.”

“If you think so, my bride,” Anthy says, picking up her book and setting aside her own tea.

“ _My bride_ stuff again, yeesh,” Utena huffs before falling back ungracefully, her head once more sinking into Anthy’s lap. “You’re never gonna get tired of saying that.”

Reading Synthia Plath, Anthy only smiles to herself. “No. I will never tire of changing.”


End file.
